


Back in the Saddle Again

by endearinglysad



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossdressing, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-05
Updated: 2010-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endearinglysad/pseuds/endearinglysad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared broke up with his girlfriend six months ago and Chad is sick of him moping around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back in the Saddle Again

**Author's Note:**

> If you have ever heard of the Disney movie _Cow Belles_, please pretend you haven't. If you've never heard of it, please pretend I didn't just mention it, and for god's sake, don't go look it up. This story has absolutely nothing in common with that movie besides a (somewhat) clever pun. Title is from the Gene Autry classic, but then I found out about the Aerosmith version, which...works better actually.

“Padalecki! Get your emo bitch-ass out here!”

Jared groaned and rolled over. His sheets were pretty gamey at this point, but that didn’t stop him burying his face in the pillow and pulling the comforter up over his head. He never should have given Chad a key to his apartment.

The door to his room banged open. “Whoa. _Fuck_, it stinks in here.”

Jared stuck one hand out from under the comforter to flip Chad the bird, but he was pretty sure the gesture was lost on his friend, who was barging around the room throwing open windows and making exaggerated gagging noises. So he just pulled his hand back into his cocoon and tried playing dead. It was four-thirty on a Saturday afternoon and he’d stayed up late the night before drinking—alone—and there was no way he was in the mood for any of Chad’s, well…Chad. Luckily, he had his iPod under the blankets with him, and he slipped the earbuds in.

“Jared. Come on, man, get up.”

Nothing.

“If you get up now, I’ll let you pick out your own clothes.”

Jared cranked up the volume and ignored him. Big mistake. Next thing he knew, the covers were ripped off the bed with a “You sure as hell better not be naked under there, Sasquatch.”

“Fuck off, Chad!” Jared rolled to the other side of the bed and tugged at the bottom sheet, then rolled himself up in it like a giant burrito when it came free.

Chad was quiet, and Jared had a minute to sigh in relief that he’d taken the hint and left, until Chad dumped a full glass of water on his head. He shot up, sputtering and ready to kill.

Chad just stared at him impassively. “Get up,” he ordered. “We’re going out.”

 

~//~

 

“I don’t even _like_ country music.”

Chad shot him a confused look then turned his attention back to the road. “But you’re from Texas.”

Jared had absolutely no response to that, just shook his head incredulously at Chad.

“Look, who even cares?” Chad continued. “Boobs and booze, man. You are taking home a sweet young thing tonight if I have to rope and tie her myself.”

“Charming.”

“Besides, Mike said these guys were hot. Next big thing, or some shit.”

“Oh, well, if _Mike_ says…”

Chad pulled into the parking lot of some L.A. version of a country dive bar, parked, and turned to pin Jared with his laser eyes. Little fucker could be intense when he wanted to.

“Six months, man.”

They’d had this conversation before. “So? I was with Sandy for six _years_.”

“I know that, and I’m not saying you gotta get engaged again tonight. But you gotta do this, Jay—for Little Jared’s sake. You’ve had him on the bench long enough.”

Jared sputtered. “Okay, first? He’s not little, asshole. Second? I get plenty of action, thanks. And third, never talk about my dick again.”

Chad just sighed. “Whatever, man, just…do something, alright? ‘Cause I’m about ready to fuck you myself, just so your right hand knows it’s still got competition.”

Jared stared, speechless, as Chad slid out of the truck and came around to open Jared’s door. Chad jerked him out by his shirt collar, and Jared stumbled a bit, but let Chad lead him into the bar. The tiny, rational part of his mind knew that Chad was just worried about him (in his own, fucked up way), but the rest of his brain was too busy screaming at the idea of sex with Chad to put up much of a fight right now.

The place was nice on the inside, a little trendy for Jared’s sake, and way too full of douchebags in perfectly pressed Wranglers and cowboy boots to be taken seriously. He tried not to roll his eyes too hard, just followed Chad to the bar and tried not to die when Chad flashed his best squint-and-smirk at the bartender and drawled, “Whiskey, darlin’.”

No way could he deal with this sober. He needed alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

The bartender gave him a funny grin when he ordered a tequila shot and told her to leave the bottle, but didn’t say anything. Jared hustled through the crowd, looking for Chad and trying to give off not-an-asshole-just-not-interested vibes and avoid all eye contact as he waded through the tables.

Chad had snagged them half a table near the stage. There was a smaller, emptier table off to one side, closer to the back, but this table had two hot chicks making out on the other side of it. Jared figured he wasn’t getting Chad out of that chair with anything less than a nuclear bomb, so he just sighed and settled in to get good and drunk.

The jukebox was wailing out something annoyingly twangy and he was staring into his empty shot glass, wondering if there was any reason why he shouldn’t pour himself another one, when Chad elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

“Dude, _what_?” Jared snapped.

Chad just nodded to Jared’s left and looked up, and Jared finally realized that someone was standing next to their table. He wasn’t that tall, but he had intelligent ice-blue eyes and a pretty smirk. He was seriously hot, tight black t-shirt and jeans molding to a nice body, and Jared appreciated that the guy hadn’t given into the whole poser-cowboy thing going on in this place. He was staring down at Jared with a questioning look, and Jared realized that Hot Guy must have been talking to him and he hadn’t even noticed.

“Do you want to dance?” Hot Guy asked again. His voice was deep and smooth and…did absolutely nothing for Jared. Maybe Chad was right—his dick had obviously slipped into a coma when he wasn’t paying attention.

Jared smiled at him, but started to shake his head. “Thanks, man, but I don’t really dance.”

The guy looked disappointed, but returned Jared’s smile and gave him a shy nod. “Well, worth a try, right?”

Jared laughed, and was about to send Hot Guy on his way when Chad jumped in.

“What do you mean you don’t dance? You’re from Texas—you’re supposed to be good at this boot-scootin’ shit.”

Jared briefly wondered if he’d be able to find Chad’s keys to drive himself home after he murdered him, but Hot Guy was looking hopeful again, and Jared was trapped unless he wanted to look like a total asshole. He forced a smile that he could only hope looked genuine and stood. “Okay, why not?”

He stood, took Hot Guy’s hand when it was held out to him, and let himself be pulled onto the dance floor.

The joined in to a complicated line dance, and Jared let Hot Guy—Ian, he’d said his name was—help him learn the steps. He was twisting and hopping, and trying really hard not to knock anyone, including himself, over, so it took a few minutes for him to realize that he was actually having fun. Enough fun that when the music slowed down into some achy ballad, he pulled a smiling Ian into his arms for another dance without much thought.

They didn’t talk much, just smiled at each other until Ian stepped in closer and rested his cheek against Jared’s shoulder. He felt nice in Jared’s arms, but Jared just wasn’t interested in taking it any further than a dance. He had to admit, though, that it felt good to be with someone, and he was forced, for the second time in one night, to admit that Chad might have been right.

When the music shifted again, Jared pulled back with a rueful smile. “Thanks, man, but I should get back to my friend.”

Ian looked over to where Chad had settled himself between his horny tablemates and then turned back to Jared. “Yeah, he looks like he’s dying without you,” he said, softening the words with a quick grin. “I’d give you my number, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t use it.”

Jared had to laugh. “Nothing personal, man.”

Ian nodded. “I know. See you around, Jared.” And then he was gone.

Jared wandered back to his table, nodded to the girls and ignored Chad’s annoyed snort. He had just poured himself another shot when the jukebox stopped and the lights dimmed.

The manager jumped up on stage to introduce the band. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, straight from Richardson, Texas, I give you—The Cow Belles!”

The crowd was cheering loudly, happy shouts and whistles mingling with laughter and cat calls as the band took the stage, but Jared could only stare.

“Uh. What kind of act did you say this was?”

Chad was staring at the stage, slackjawed.

“Fucking _Mike_.”

 

~//~

 

The thing was, the band was actually _good_.

They were playing a grinding mix of country and rock, which Jared could appreciate. Or, he would have appreciated it if he could think about anything but what he was seeing.

The lead singer was gorgeous. She was tall, at least six feet, but the stacked platform boots she was wearing probably made her as tall as Jared. Leather fringe lined the outer seams of the boots up to her knees, and then continued up the sides of her skin-tight miniskirt. Fringe at the hem teased the tops of her thighs, moving as she moved and teasingly blocking the view of anything under her skirt. A tight leather bustier finished the outfit off, the barest hint of cleavage peeking over the top. She had wild red hair, clearly a wig, but that fell in thick curls almost to her waist. And her face was all perfect lips and long-lashed green eyes. She was breathtaking.

She was also—very, very clearly—a _he_.

Thick, muscled thighs disappeared under the skirt, and there was nothing hiding his strong arms and hands as he gripped the microphone and sang. Despite the getup, there was nothing feminine about him.

Jared wasn’t gay, but he sure as hell wasn’t straight, either—he focused on the people he was attracted to and worried about what kind of equipment they had if and when the opportunity arose. He’d never felt one way or another about drag queens or transvestites, had never thought of it as a particular kink of his. But something about this guy made him want to push that little skirt up around his waist and fuck him with his boots still on.

And it felt like Little Jared was up for that too. Literally.

The first song ended to wild applause, and the two guitarists kept some background music going as the singer spoke.

“Hey, everybody! We’re real glad y’all could come out tonight.” He was smiling big, working the crowd like a pro. “Like the nice man said, we’re the Cow Belles. These are my sisters, Cammy and Sammy.”

The crowd roared in response, and with a laugh he strutted over to one of the guitar players. Jared watched the way the muscles in his thighs rippled as he walked and swallowed. Hard.

“My friends call me Tammy. But if you’re real nice, you can call me anything you want!” And with that, he launched into the next song. He sang like sun-warmed water over rocks, rough and smooth at the same time, and Jared wanted to know what that voice would sound like to wake up to in the morning, fucked out and husky with sleep.

He watched, transfixed, as they played through the rest of their set. He couldn’t take his eyes off…Tammy, or whatever, and he seemed to be staring at Jared, too. He had almost convinced himself that he was imagining the interest in those green eyes when Tammy announced their last song, looked straight at Jared, and said “This one’s for you, cowboy.” He sang the whole song without looking away from Jared. When he finished, he said goodnight to the crowd, gave Jared a tiny wink, and was gone.

 

~//~

 

“I can’t believe I fuckin’ let you talk me into this.”

The bar had mostly emptied out after the Belles finished their show, but it was still far from closing time. Jared was at his table, letting the sounds of laughter and conversation swirl around him, when a familiar voice caught his attention.

His head shot up and he searched the bar, finally landing on a pair of guys waiting for their drinks at the bar. The shorter one was clearly Cammy—the shoulder-length, perfectly-curled brown hair was a dead giveaway—and even if he hadn’t heard the other guy’s voice, he’d know those green eyes anywhere.

Green Eyes (Jared couldn’t force himself to call him Tammy anymore) was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans now, scuffed work boots replacing the heeled ones from earlier. His hair was dark and short, but he looked softer somehow, despite the deep glare he was still aiming at his bandmate. He took the drink the bartender set in front of him with a smile though, and Jared felt himself smiling in response. He couldn’t help it—couldn’t even get rid of it when he realized what he was doing. He watched, mesmerized, while the two men talked

Now was his chance. Chad had left him a little while ago with a clap on the shoulder and a reminder that if Jared didn’t get some action tonight, he’d be getting some tomorrow from Chad. He’d been too caught up in his own thoughts to give that much of a response, but that _was_ what he was here for, right? He could just walk up there and introduce himself and…what? He didn’t even know the guy’s real name.

Jared watched long enough to see Green Eyes’ glare finally break into a grin. He was laughing at something Shorty said when his eyes swept the bar and caught on Jared’s. He froze for a second, smile turning to _panic_ and then spun around so his back was to Jared.

Jared had frozen too, too surprised by Green Eyes’ reaction to pull of that quick-look-away, no-I-wasn’t-staring thing. He realized he was sitting alone at a table, staring at a perfect stranger with a stupid grin on his face, and he’d probably just freaked the guy right the fuck out. No wonder he looked panicked—he probably thought Jared was some creepy stalker.

Cammy spun around to see what had freaked out Green Eyes, and Jared _finally_ managed to drag his eyes away from the pair, but not before he saw a wicked grin spread across Cammy’s face. That was…really not a comforting look, actually.

Jared stared into his glass, sneaking glances up every few seconds. The two Belles were arguing again, Green Eyes shaking his head wildly and shoving at his buddy’s arm every time it made a vague gesture in Jared’s direction. When he looked up again, Shorty was heading straight toward him.

Now Jared was panicking.

A water bottle slammed down on the table in front of him, and Shorty dropped into the chair Chad had vacated earlier. “Well, well. If it isn’t Jenny’s biggest fan. Name’s Chris,” he said, reaching across the table to offer Jared a hand. “I only occasionally dress like a chick, unlike Jensen who’s pretty much a chick all the time.”

Jared didn’t quite know what to say, just took Chris’s hand and mumbled a slightly-confused “Jared,” in response.

Chris gestured at the water in front of Jared. “Drink up, son. Hangovers are a bitch.” He waited until Jared unscrewed the cap and took a deep swallow, then, “So. You still here because you’re hopin’ for a fuck or a fight?”

Jared did not spit water all over the table, or choke on it, which, judging by the gleam in Chris’s eyes was clearly what he’d been hoping for. Jared could be a dork sometimes (e.g., making googly eyes at a perfect stranger across a not-so-crowded bar), but he could play it cool when he wanted to. He stared back at Chris and took another long pull at the bottle before answering.

“You asking for you? Because I’d imagine that someone who looks as good in a skirt as you do would have to be pretty good at both.”

Chris laughed at that, a full sharp bark of joy that brought the smile back to Jared’s face, too. He leaned forward. “I do alright,” he answered with a smile. Something in his pocket beeped, a phone Jared guessed, but Chris ignored it and continued, “But I don’t think you stuck around for me.”

Jared couldn’t help a quick glance toward the bar at that. Jensen, Chris had said his name was, was still leaning against the bar with his back to Jared’s table, apparently trying like hell to look casual. He kept darting little glances over his shoulder though, and was clearly straining to hear their conversation. Jared realized he was staring again and jerked his eyes back to Chris, who was smirking at him again.

“Jensen’s my best friend,” he said, leaning back and eyeing Jared thoughtfully. The smirk was still there, but there was something serious underneath it, and Jared found himself leaning in to focus on Chris’s words. “He’s the reason I learned to fight.”

His tone was light, but Jared heard the warning loud and clear. He nodded, once, and Chris relaxed a little n his chair. His phone beeped again, and Chris glanced down, then back at Jared. “You mind?” He asked.

Jared waved a vague no, and Chris pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open to read the text. He was smiling again when he looked back up at Jared. “Jensen wants to know if you’re up for a weekend of sweaty sex at his place.”

Before Jared could respond, Jensen yelled “That’s not what I said, asshole!” from across the bar.

Chris yelled back. “Then come over here and ask him out yourself!”

Jared could tell Jensen’s face was red, even though he had it hidden in his hands. He looked like he was trying to become a part of the bar, and Jared figured there was no way he was going to come over to their table at this point. Jared suddenly felt completely, irrationally, absolutely _happy_. He hadn’t felt this way in…a long time. He turned back to Chris. “Hey, man, can I borrow your phone?

Chris handed it over with a slightly quirked eyebrow, but Jared didn’t explain, just pressed reply and started typing in a quick message. He sent the text to Jensen and stood, holding a hand out to Chris. “Nice to meet you, man. Awesome band—I’ll catch you again sometime.”

He gave Chris a big smile and headed for the door, tossing a wink at Jensen on the way out. He was halfway out the door when he heard a cackling whoop from Chris, turned back to see him reading the text he’d sent Jensen, and he couldn’t help smiling, but he was nervous too.

The night air was cool, but nice after the heat of the bar. He stood at the curb and waited. If this didn’t work, he figured a cab would come along eventually. Hopefully, though, he wouldn’t need to worry about a ride tonight.

The door opened and closed behind him, brief burst of noise quickly silenced. He forced himself not to turn around. Just waited, hoping.

“You’re making an awfully big assumption, you know.”

Jared turned, finally getting his first, up-close look at Jensen. A faint blush did nothing to hide the smattering of freckles on Jensen’s cheeks, and Jared suddenly wanted to kiss every one of them. He couldn’t stop the broad grin that stretched across his face—apparently he was going to have to get used to smiling like an idiot whenever Jensen was around, which he hoped was going to be a lot.

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“You don’t even know me,” Jensen said quietly.

“Hmm,” Jared answered, nodding thoughtfully. He stepped in close to Jensen, cupping his cheek in one hand and pulling him closer with the other. “Okay. Where’d you grow up?” he asked, and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Jensen’s mouth.

Jensen’s eyes drifted shut. “Richardson, Texas,” he answered on a breathy laugh.

“Are you close to your family?” Jared continued, moving to the other side and trailing a row of kisses up Jensen’s jaw line.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“How do you like your steak?”

“Still bloody and with extra steak on the side.”

Jared chuckled at that, dipped to kiss Jensen’s mouth again. “And how do you feel about getting fucked by a guy?”

“I’m here aren’t I?” Jensen answered, finally reaching for Jared and pulling him in closer.

“That’s good,” Jared murmured in his ear, adding a husky laugh when Jensen shivered under his hands. “And I think we’ve got plenty of time to figure out the rest.”


End file.
